


One Night Only

by alfing



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel 616, Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Jennifer Hudson - Freeform, Kind of Date?, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Not a happy ending folks, Queen - Freeform, also i've never written porn before that's why this sucks, characters? also weird, movies - Freeform, not as good as i hoped it would be, pacing is weird, this was a good idea in my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 22:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17712722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfing/pseuds/alfing
Summary: Deadpool loves Spider-Man. Spider-Man also loves Deadpool. Unfortunately not everyone gets a happy ending.





	One Night Only

**Author's Note:**

> yeah so i listened to jennifer hudson's "one night only" and thought  
> what if spideypool?  
> so yeah i've never written porn before so this was ass to write please hate me  
> also extremely unbeta'd  
> went straight from the frying pan and into your horny plates lmao

It had been months since Spider-Man had decided to give Deadpool a chance to redeem himself. They became unlikely friends. They did nightly patrols together, they fought with and against one another, they kind of adopted a robot child together and so on.

But it was obvious to Spider-Man that Deadpool had feelings for him that were more than platonic.

Well, okay, it wasn’t obvious at first. He was kind of an idiot and these kinds of things often went over his head like a frisbee (bad analogy, he would totally be able to catch a frisbee like that.) But over time he realized that all of Deadpool’s flirtations weren’t always jokes. And it took even longer for him to realize that he didn’t mind those feelings at all. In fact, they did something strange to his heart, making him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

After weeks of denial and finally putting two and two together, he accepted the fact that maybe he wanted to be more than just friends with Deadpool.

“Gross,” Spider-Man muttered to himself as he sat on the ledge of a rooftop, watching the sun start to set behind the Empire State Building.

“Wow, rude,” came an oh-so-familiar voice behind him and he had to suppress a groan. “I came bearing food and you call me gross? I expected better manners from my favorite web-slinging vigilante.”

“I wasn’t talking about you, Wade,” Spider-Man sighed as Deadpool plopped himself right next to him, dropping a bag of Chinese takeout between them. “I was just thinking out loud.”

“Hey, I do that, too! Twinsies!” Deadpool held his gloved hand up for a high five but was blatantly ignored. “That’s cool, more for me.” He high fived himself.

Spider-Man rolled his eyes as he reached into the takeout bag to pull out one of the boxes of food and a pair of chopsticks. Deadpool followed suit, already pulling up his mask above his mouth to shovel chow mein into it. 

“So what’s tonight’s agenda, Webs?” he asked, voice muffled by noodles.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Spider-Man scolded as soon as he lifted his mask halfway. “And I don’t really have anything planned aside from the usual patrol. If you behave yourself I might let you take the reins on our night.”

It was a joke. Mostly. Part of him was actually serious about the offer but before he could deny anything, Deadpool had to go and express his excitement.

“I promise I will be a very good boy! There are a couple places I wanna take you to, tonight and I assure you, you won’t regret it,” he enthused and Spider-Man couldn’t find it in himself to protest.

“Whatever. Just eat your noodles, Wade.”

 

They only managed to nab one robber before Deadpool dragged him over to the cinema.

“What are you doing?” Spider-Man sighed as he let himself be led away, ignoring the warm feeling in his chest that came when Deadpool linked their hands together.

“A movie came out that I wanted to see.”

“And? You can watch it on your own time.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to watch it with you.”

He felt his heart doing backflips and he had to fight to control his voice. “That’s dumb.” Well, that wasn’t what he meant to say but it came out anyway. Oh well.

Deadpool chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that erupted within his chest and  _ god _ that was hot. (He had to mentally check himself because he just used “Deadpool” and “hot” in the same sentence and it wasn’t even the “literally on fire” kind of hot.) Spider-Man continued to let himself be led to the ticket booth and waited patiently as Deadpool bought them two tickets to  _ Bohemian Rhapsody _ . His eyes lit up, surprised. He had been wanting to watch this movie as well but had never really gotten the chance to do it. And now here he was, walking into the theater (still hand in hand) with Deadpool, about to see it.

“Why did you want to watch this movie with me?” Spider-Man found himself asking as they seated themselves at the very back of the theater so they didn’t attract anymore attention than they already had.

“I knew you wanted to see it so it was the perfect opportunity,” Deadpool stated matter-of-factly.

“How did you know?”

He received a shrug in response and a: “Because you enthusiastically told me how Freddie Mercury was the ultimate ‘Bicon,’ so it was a lucky guess, I suppose.”

Spider-Man had forgotten about that. But it was sweet that Deadpool remembered. This was doing dangerous things to his heart. He wanted to say more, but he was quickly hushed as the trailers started rolling.

 

Later that night, they took a walk through Central Park. The sun was gone and there was only moonlight beaming at them. And it was quiet, pleasantly so. The only sounds they could hear was the usual ambience of the city and their own joyful voices.

“—and you were so awesome! The way you swung around that street lamp and kicked that guy in the face was so hot, I nearly pissed myself,” Deadpool recalled jubilantly. “Y’know if this whole hero business doesn’t work out for you, Webs, you would totally kill it as a pole dancer.”

“And that’s gonna be a hard ‘no’ from me,” Spider-Man denied as he kicked a pebble lightly. “I’d rather work for the Daily Bugle.”

“Seriously? But Jameson sucks. All he writes about is his hatred for you and it’s all slander. You’re the best thing since sliced bread!”

Spider-Man snorted, amused. “Thanks, Wade. I feel real loved right now.”

“Tis the truth, Spidey. Given the opportunity, I would one hundred percent tap dat ass, no hesitation.”

“Yes, you’ve told me that at least a thousand times,” he rolled his eyes playfully.

“What? I can’t help it. You have a perfect bod. Perfect for all of the above: fighting baddies, sexy times, and taking care of our precious robo-child, Matrix.”

“We’re not his dads, Wade.”

There was a pause and for a moment he was afraid he had upset him somehow.

“You’re right,” Deadpool said suddenly, his steps faltering. “Technically a father who abandons his family isn’t a good one, so I guess you’re his only dad now.”

Spider-Man stopped, the lenses of his mask squinting in confusion as he tried to process his words. “Um, can I get some context here?”

“It’s nothing, Webs. I’m just messing around.”

That was a lie. He could tell. Deadpool wasn’t looking at him, his gaze was focused on the ground. “Wade, c’mon. What’s wrong?”

Still no response.

“Wade, please-”

“I’m leaving.”

He froze, blinking owlishly at his friend. “What?”

“I’m...” Deadpool sighed and then pulled off his mask, exposing his scarred face and addressing him now as Wade Wilson and this gesture terrified Spider-Man who was still masked and confused. “I’m leaving.”

Spider-Man swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. “For how long?”

“As far as I know? Indefinitely.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Where?”

“Out of country.”

“ _ Why _ ?”

Wade paused again, fiddling with his mask. “I’m sorry, Webs.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he didn’t mean to sound angry but he couldn’t control his voice anymore. All his emotions were pouring out. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me before? Why are you leaving now? Just...  _ why _ ?”

“I can’t tell you why I’m leaving.”

Spider-Man clenched his fist, tensing immediately. “It’s a job, isn’t it.”

“No, listen. It isn’t like that, okay? I just... have some issues I have to deal with and it isn’t safe if I stay here endangering you, endangering Ellie-”

“Okay, then why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could help you with this, Wade, if you’d just let me-”

“I’m going to be real with you, Webs, I was scared shitless, okay? I was afraid that if I told you any sooner, you’d be able to convince me to stay, to let you help me and that-” he took a shaky breath. “I can’t have that. I don’t want you to put yourself in danger for me of all people.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Spider-Man stalked over to him, jabbing an accusing finger hard into his chest. “What’s so wrong with wanting to help you even if it meant putting myself in danger, huh?”

“You can’t do that for me. I. Don’t. Deserve. You.”

“Yes you do, asshole! You  _ do  _ deserve me!” he exclaimed before realizing what he said and he backtracked a bit. “That’s not-I mean... you deserve more than you think, Wade. You’re a better person now than you were in the beginning.”

They were incredibly close now. Spider-Man had crossed his arms over his chest and they brushed against Wade’s definite pectorals. They were face to face (or rather, face to mask.) 

“I’m in love with you, Spidey. You know that, right?”

Spider-Man swallowed again, feeling a dryness in his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“And...” Wade hesitated. “And what about you?”

Of course he felt the same way. He wouldn’t be arguing with him if he didn’t. But for some reason the words wouldn’t come and he stood there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. He couldn’t say it. But what was the point, anyway? Wade was going to leave. He probably wasn’t going to come back, ever.  _ God _ , that hurt like hell.

“You said...” he blurted the words without thinking, letting his instincts take over. “You said you leave in the morning, right? You’ll still be here tonight?”

It was obvious Wade was trying not to look disappointed but he nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“Take me home.”

It was Wade’s turn to be stunned into silence. “What?”

“Take me to your apartment, Wade. We don’t have all day.”

(Only tonight.)

They found themselves on the sofa twenty minutes later. Spider-Man was seated in Wade’s lap, arms secured around his neck as they made-out slowly, all lips and tongue and teeth.

Maybe they could pretend, Spider-Man thought, that their feelings weren’t real. Just for tonight. In the morning he would deal with the repercussions; he would deal with the heartbreak that was bound to follow. But tonight— _ tonight _ was filled with lust with only a hint of pain as their hands wandered and suits were peeled off their skin.

Spider-Man kept his mask on but let Wade pull the rest of the red and blue spandex off his body, starting from his neck until it pooled around his knees. Hands gently caressed his thighs, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Spider-Man worked on removing Wade’s suit, pulling it apart and discarding it haphazardly off to the side. He gently placed his bare hands on the scarred torso before him, curiously tracing the grooves in the skin.

“Come here,” Wade all but growled, reining him in by the ass for another kiss.

Spider-Man’s plain red boxers were gently tugged down to expose his bottom and groin and he pulled away from the kiss. “You’re not going to let me be the only one naked, are you?”

A grin found its way onto Wade’s face and he quickly discarded his own Spider-Man boxers, leaving them both as bare as the day they were born (excluding the mask still fitted halfway on Spider-Man’s face.)

The next hour was a blur.

Well, not entirely a blur, Spider-Man would never be able to forget the feeling of scarred hands running up and down his sides, kneading his buttocks, fingers prodding him confidently. He vaguely recalled climaxing and crying out Wade’s name as he clinged to him so tightly he was sure he left marks. He could remember a pulse inside of him as Wade spilled into the condom and the feeling of emptiness that came afterwards as he pulled out.

They collapsed onto the sofa together in a tangle of limbs, sated and sex high. In a matter of minutes they were sound asleep, finding comfort in each other’s arms.

 

In the morning, Spider-Man woke up alone.

There was a blanket covering his naked form—thick and smelling heavily of Wade Wilson. He sat up slowly, ignoring the ache in his lower back as he moved, and spotted a paper sitting on the coffee table. He reached over and picked it up, recognizing the messy scrawl of crayon as Wade’s rushed handwriting. It said only three words:  _ I’m Sorry, Webs _ .

The paper crumpled in his fist and in his distress, he ripped his mask off his face.

He didn’t allow himself to cry but his chest felt hollow. He listened to the silence of the lonely apartment until it drove him a little insane. He couldn’t bring himself to leave yet. Some part of him felt that maybe Wade would come back; maybe this was just some sick joke to get him to confess his feelings.

Spider-Man—wait, no, he wasn’t wearing the mask anymore so he was just Peter Parker; he got off the sofa with only a slight protest in his sore muscles before wandering over to what looked like a stereo system. He browsed the selection of CDs scattered carelessly across the shelf and he had to huff a short, humorless laugh at the strange variety of music Wade collected. Peter ran his fingers across the cases and stopped at one he recognized. He opened the case and slipped the CD into the music player, filling the silence with the sweet vocals of Jennifer Hudson.

He returned to the sofa, wrapping himself tightly in a cocoon of blankets as he waited for Wade to come back.

“ _ One night only _ ,” Hudson sang. “ _ We only have ‘til dawn _ .”


End file.
